One morning Mother entered her room to find Father’s picture lying on the floor. The glass covering this picture, taken recently at the trenches, was broken at the position of Father’s neck in the photograph. Immediately Mother’s superstitious nature reappeared. There was, she felt, something wrong with Father. This breakage could have been the work of a hostile servant but, more likely, the wind had done it. To Mother it was a bad omen. Again her anxious mind went back to the large cross she saw in the sky as they crossed the Troitsky bridge a few years before. Did these signs indicate that Father was to bear a heavy cross in the future?
Then she had a dream which increased her anxiety. In it she saw the Grand Duke Serge, who had been blamed for the coronation disaster and had been dead for years, come to visit us; suddenly he began to dance and wave a chiffon veil. Father sat and watched him. All at once the Grand Duke came to the end of his little dance, and the veil he was waving caught on the stone on top of the crown on Father’s head. A quick move of the Grand Duke and the crown was off Father’s head and dashed to the floor. Seven of the large stones seemed to disappear, only one being left. Soon that, too, began to evaporate slowly until it became a tiny pebble and finally vanished. The dream haunted her. Did it mean that the crown would be lost? The little stone that vanished—did that indicate that Alexei might be taken away from us?
Another bad omen! The chain which held the cross and the ruby ring (actually it was a red diamond) which Father had given to Mother and which she lately had been wearing around her neck, had broken. These she had always considered her good luck charms. She often placed her ruby ring on the chain with the cross and now, when the chain broke, the ring rolled one way and the cross another. Did this have a meaning in relation to Father’s safety or did it indicate a rift between Father and the Church? Later this same ring was taken from Mother by Voykov several weeks before the tragic night at Ekaterinburg; he wore this red diamond on his little finger. Mother and I, myself, were great believers in dreams; I still believe in mysticism.
Mother had not heard of Father’s safe arrival at G.H.Q. Finally we received the news that he had reached his destination. Serious disorders in the streets of Petrograd began two days later and lasted for about ten days. While the air was thick with suspicion, strikes, riots, and accusations, we children were seized with measles. Alexei had been ill before Father left; next Olga was stricken; then Tatiana; and, at last, I caught the disease. Marie helped Mother to care for us, but not for long because she, too, fell ill. Then both she and I contracted pneumonia and had to be placed in oxygen tents.
Early in March, we heard through General von Grooten, assistant to General Voyeykov, Commandant of the Palaces, and at that time with Father at G.H.Q., of the conversation he had had with the military commandant in Petrograd, General Belyayev. He had, himself, been able, through General Voyeykov, to speak to Father and tell him of the true state of affairs. Rodzianko had wired His Majesty that everything was quiet. The General had acted on his own initiative because he could see the critical conditions in Petrograd and in Tsarskoe Selo. Father was relieved to hear that we were alive. Through General Belyayev, Father sent word that we should do nothing until he returned home. But we must be ready to go away at a moment’s notice. He had also been informed that we all were ill, but he hoped that, when he arrived home, we would be well enough to leave. He did not know that Marie and I and several others at the palace had pneumonia.
At this time Rodzianko called the palace to say that Father was well but we were in great danger and should go at once to Gatchina Palace, about thirty miles southwest of Petrograd. Uncle Michael also had his residence there, and many other relatives of the Imperial family maintained villas in the park. Had we gone there, we would have had more freedom. Two parallel wings, connected by a third, were almost completely enclosed. Each wing had more than several hundred rooms, and the grounds held a fair-sized lake in the middle. The estate included thousands of acres of gardens, forest and ravines. We might more easily have escaped from there abroad.
There were rumors that Uncle Ernest was hiding in a tunnel. People probably confused a tunnel at Alexander Palace in Tsarskoe Selo with a natural passage at Gatchina. This natural passage could be entered from the stairway of the palace into a dark narrow hall, the exit of which led to the bank of Silver Lake adjoining the Baltic Sea. This spooky tunnel was cold, damp, and had a mournful echo. All these gruesome things came to my mind. I could see the statue of Paul I in front of the palace. His clothes, which were brought into his room after his assassination, remained there undisturbed as on the day he left the palace. There was a belief that Paul’s ghost walked at night about the vast rooms, corridors, and terraces. Others even claimed that they had heard him calling in the tunnel, and some servants were afraid to leave their rooms when the clock struck twelve midnight. This palace was my Grandfather’s favorite residence.
In Tsarskoe Selo there was a tunnel or passage through one of the park entrances. This entrance, with a stone structure over the gate, was carefully watched, and was used by the workers—delivery men, repair men, cooks, maids, gardeners and others. No one could enter this passage without showing his or her pass and the picture on the pass had to correspond with the one in the book which was at the disposal of the guard. When these workers reached the inner end of the tunnel, they were in the English basement of the palace where there were a number of rooms set aside for their use. These included a lounge, dining rooms, etc. In another section of the basement were rooms for the officers, including a dining room which was below Mother’s bedroom. Five or six hundred workers used this tunnel daily. It was one of the busiest and most widely used entrances. Practically all these people using this gate had been known to the guards, inasmuch as they had used this entrance for many years.
We heard that the soldiers were breaking into stores, getting drunk, and even becoming intoxicated on wood alcohol. As a result, some were poisoned and died. These deaths were blamed on the palace guard.
Mother was on duty with us children all night for several nights. Although she made frequent changes, she appeared constantly in her nurse’s uniforms. She rested on the sofa in order to be near us. The trials my Mother endured during these turbulent days are beyond description. One of the first things Mother did as a prisoner was to go through her personal letters. She burned some of the intimate ones she had received from Father during their courtship. Other letters which she destroyed were those from her Granny, Queen Victoria. When Mother was a young bride, expecting her first child, her Granny gave her useful advice. All letters written by the Imperial family were almost always numbered and dated so that it was easy to know whether any were missing. When the palace was searched by the commissars appointed by the Provisional Government, they noticed the paper ashes in the fireplace. They accused Mother of having burned important evidence. She could not change their suspicion that she had burned more than personal letters of sentiment. When she was through burning them, she said; “All is dead—but not my memories. No one can take them from me.” Then she buried her face in her hands, resting her arms on the mantel of the fireplace where she had burned her Granny’s own handwritten, cherished letters. She wept bitterly over the flame that carried Queen Victoria’s precious words into smoke.